


Dust

by CaptainRivaini



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Drabble, F/F, Gen, NOT ANOTHER SHIP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-24
Updated: 2014-09-24
Packaged: 2018-02-18 16:14:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2354684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainRivaini/pseuds/CaptainRivaini
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Issala means dust, my parents didn’t get to choose my name but the Arishok? He was the one who named me, straight after his Karasten and the Karataam ran my parents through for running away from…" Issala stopped and Quill could see that her the other woman’s usual stoic, shielded face was starting to crumble under the painful story was she was telling, "their duty, as he put it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dust

**Author's Note:**

> don't judge my poor life choices

"Issala means dust, my parents didn’t get to choose my name but the Arishok? He was the one who named me, straight after his Karasten and the Karataam ran my parents through for running away from…" Issala stopped and Quill could see that her the other woman’s usual stoic, shielded face was starting to crumble under the painful story was she was telling, "their duty, as he put it."

Quill picked up the last chocolate dessert with a thoughtful look on her face, nodding her head as she watched Adaar stare at her as though she was waiting for her to say something only to be rewarded with the Tevinter elf ripping the dessert in two and handing Issala the other half.

The elf placed her half into her mouth, chewing and swallowing loudly. 

"Well, that’s rough." And then when she could see that the warrior in front of her looked to be agitated, uncomfortable she sighed and sat up straighter in her chair in order to make herself look much more presentable than her slouch, "potieve dore na  _(have no shame)_ , Issala. Tis a pretty name.”

Issala snorted, her eyes refusing to linger too long on the dessert in front of her. Quill reminded her of all mages, sneaky and liked to set terms and duels without the other person knowing - she killed with a kindness that Issala had slept next to since the day she could remember first being found by her mercenary group on the road to Tevinter.

Quill couldn’t be trusted, no matter what Josephine tried to tell her, nor Vivienne, Sera or even the Seeker. Quill was a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

Issala would not allow herself to be snared in her jaws.


End file.
